this is my kingdom come (i'm doing this all for you)
by AtLoLevad
Summary: Felicity has a horrible feeling in her stomach when Oliver goes out. Are her fears unfounded? Based off of a post I saw on Tumblr.


**A/N: Okay everyone…I kind of know that I'm jumping on this depressing Olicity bandwagon today, but I couldn't hold off on writing this one any longer. I'm planning a three parter here, and I think that's a set decision. Obviously, I'll let you know if it gets longer, but I'm confident that I can tell the story I want in three parts.**

**The title come from the Imagine Dragons song, 'Demons' The meaning of the title will hopefully become clearer in the next chapter. But after that, you can probably figure out where I'll be going with this. ;)**

**I really hope you guys like this, and please, please review and let me know what you think =)**

* * *

Felicity had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach from the moment Oliver had stepped foot outside the foundry. She knew it was silly. Oliver wasn't even going after a major criminal; he wasn't tracking Malcolm Merlyn, not tonight.

He'd gone after hundreds of small time criminals in his years as the Arrow. Felicity had seen him in action; had seen his fists fly faster than arrows at times.

Going after some random drug dealer shouldn't have worried Felicity as much as it did tonight. But something in the way Oliver said 'thanks' after she had wished him luck seemed off. His eyes were weirdly dull and bright at the same time.

Felicity should have questioned it, forced him to stay in, anything. But she didn't.

And as she listened to Oliver grunt as he received and threw punches, the horrible feeling in her stomach grew.

Her fingers flew over the keyboard in front of her as she desperately tried to get a visual on Oliver.

"John?" she called into the comms, "Do you see him?"

When John answered in the negative, Felicity's negativity grew exponentially. She knew something bad was about to happen.

After a few more fruitless minutes of trying to find a camera, Felicity gave up. She leaned back in her chair and pressed the comms unit deeper into her ear with two fingers. Maybe if she could hear him better, she would be able to protect him.

Listening to Oliver's grunts and curses only caused her to chew nervously on her thumbnail.

She and John were silent, not wanting to distract Oliver with too much chatter. But Felicity wanted – needed – to hear his voice.

"Oliver?" she whispered gently, not wanting to distract him, but wanting him to know she was there.

"I hear you, Felicity," Oliver grunted back.

_Oh Thank God_! Felicity let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. Oliver was there. He heard her.

A small smile replaced Felicity's worried frown. The anxious knot in her stomach loosened. Oliver would be okay. He would come back to the foundry in a little bit, battered and bruised, but in one piece.

Felicity would patch him up, brush the dirt from his hair, and give him his jeans and T-shirt.

He would smile at her, the one he reserved only for when she played doctor and patched him up. Felicity would say something resembling an innuendo and Oliver would laugh, pressing a kiss to her cheek, or maybe her lips, depending on how close he had come to losing his latest fight.

It was the last bit Felicity loved the most. She and Oliver had only been dating for three months, but it felt like so much longer. Being with Oliver felt right, it felt safe.

And after Oliver was cleaned and patched up, Team Arrow would head to Big Belly Burger for a late night victory dinner. Felicity would swipe fries from her boys. Oliver would gag at John's use of mayo on his burger. John would tease Oliver about finishing his burger in two huge bites.

It would be like any other night. Felicity smiled happily. What had she been so worried for?

Felicity's happy bubble was popped sharply when the sound of a gunshot came over her comms, as loud as if she'd been standing right next to the gun.

Jumping up from her seat, she gasped, hands covering her mouth. A gun? Now? Oliver had been fighting hand-to-hand. _Oliver_.

With tears in her eyes, Felicity tried to find her voice, the comms unit noticeable silent in her ear.

"Oh…no. Oliver?" she whispered, her voice coming out sounding like she was being chocked. She pressed one hand to her chest and one to the comms.

"Oliver?" this time her voice was stronger. Still strangled, but stronger.

"John?" she called for her other boy when the first one didn't answer.

More silence.

"John!? Oliver!?" she shrieked, her voice sounding like nails on a chalkboard, even to her own ears.

"Answer me! Answer me!" she hit her fist onto the table, hot tears running down her cheeks.

"You can't leave me hanging! Talk to me. Please," Felicity's voice broke on the last syllable.

Staticky, background noise filled her ears, the sound of feet hitting the pavement.

Her mind twisted every single worst-case scenario she could think of. Each of them seemed more farfetched and yet, more plausible than the last.

The comms went silent again.

Felicity tried her boys once more, "Oliver? John?"

She could hear the intake of breath. _They're breathing! It's okay!_

"Felicity?" John's voice came through her comms.

"I'm here. I'm here," she answered hurriedly.

John's breathing wavered, "He…he…"

_The gunshot._

"No. No. NO!" she shouted.

Static met her ears, John wasn't talking. _Why wasn't he talking?_

Felicity's world crumbled around her as he knees buckled. She sunk to the floor, one hand holding onto the edge of her desk.

"I'm sorry, Felicity," John finally spoke, but Felicity didn't hear him.

She was too busy drowning in her grief.

He was gone. Oliver was gone.

How could he be gone?

How could he leave her – leave everyone – behind?

Felicity let out a wail. He wasn't supposed to die like this. He was supposed to die an old, old man after leaving the green leather hood behind.

He wasn't supposed to leave her after they had just gotten together.

Felicity curled in on herself, hugging her knees tightly with her arms. She was cold. Cold and empty.

* * *

Diggle came back to the foundry less than an hour later. Felicity was asleep on the floor, dried tear trails on her cheeks.

He sighed and scrubbed his face. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

Bending, he lifted Felicity into his arms. She stirred, and still asleep, curled into his chest.

"Oliver?" her broken whisper sent a knife through John's heart.

"Just sleep, Felicity," he sighed, carrying her out of the foundry and into the car.

Morning wouldn't make anything better, but he couldn't leave her in the foundry alone.

He didn't want to think about what the morning would bring. He knew Felicity's – the Queen's – loss would be even worse in the cold light of day.


End file.
